I learned early on, that feeling meant pain. My parents "love" was a serious misnomer. Their "love" hurt. So I built a wall. If an object or person brought me happiness...it was quashed, taken away or betrayed me. So I built another wall. Day after day, year after year, i built walls to try and avoid the hurt of feeling everyday life. I built walls against people, against the lying words, to prevent getting attached to anything or anyone, to avoid the pain of losing it.
I tried really hard not to feel anything. I wasn't allowed to be happy. My parents were miserable and they wanted nothing more then that for me. If I had something precious...if they found out I was fond of something, they took it away. Happiness was never allowed.
So I became numb...on the outside, surpressing all likes, wants and desires, and turned stoic, robotic, unfeeling, stifled. If you do something long enough, it becomes you. I turned into...a living, breathing, feeling being, seriously imprisoned behind a thousand walls of varying degrees of thickness and material.
And here I have lived.
Failing to realize that the days of people, "loved ones", consciously and subconsciously routinely hurting me, has long passed.
Distance, simple physical distance of miles, coupled with ignoring phone calls and Facebook blocking, has left me completely safe. Yet still, I turned the wheels, rotating walls and hiding.
I trust no one, but that is because I had to...for my own safety. Then I simply repeated the old patterns of thinking until I became trapped by my own security measures.
I, now, trust myself. Small sentence, big revelation. In a way, I have always loved what is deep, down inside of me. The part of my I vehemently, ferociously protected and hid from the scavenging vultures of my biological family. My god, they constantly circled for prey, for victims to tear apart and feast. Even siblings...siblings were set against each other in a constant battle for attention, affection, food and imaginary competitions, forced to battle each other, to best each other. How sick. How fuckingsick, to look back and see what they did, encouraged and allowed.
I have.....always been gifted....with a great amount of love, kindness and caring. I just couldn't let them see it to ruin me. But it did shine through.
Oh, you should have seen me away from my parents house. At work my compassion flowed. As I gladly helped my elderly neighbors, as I dropped my last two dollars into the red kettle.....I could go on and on. I have always been a caring, compassionate person.
I hide behind "I'm not good enough" and "what if I give a little and they want more....more then I can give." I always worry that I might run out...that there won't be enough love for me. Because honey, I can't count on getting it from anybody else.
This post started with thoughts....remembering how I was never loved or cared for. Remembering how pain upon me was encouraged and no one ever seemed to want to help, to stop my hurt. How I begged and pleaded, on the inside, for someone, one person, a saviour to help me, to love me, to hold me, to stop the bad guys, to pick my broken body off the floor and just hold me and love me. And it hurt to want. It hurt to have unanswered, unspoken pleas. So I Stopped Wanting. I stopped hoping. My god, there are only so many fucking days you can fight the big bastards without finally giving up and starting to die inside. I stopped reaching out. I gave up All hope. The world became a vile, putrid, painful place of self centered abusive bastards who Never saw The Obvious Pleading Pain In My Eyes...so I stopped Looking.
No one gave a Shit when I was Emaciated, Pale, Starving and Bruised....do you wonder why I Hid? Do you wonder why I became distant, diffuse and dissociative? I didn't think so. Disillusioned.
Afraid to feel again, to dare to reach out. To trust...what's that. God sometimes I see how fucked I really am.
Why am I here.....thought my job in life was to be beaten, taunted and raped. Appparantly, that occupation stopped many years ago. Maybe just now sinking in.
I want what I never had. The stuff dreams are made of. Or, for the rest of you, that stuff you grew up with and get everyday. Confirmation of Your Existence. Love. Care. Someone that gives a shit. Someone That Can See you and Hear you and Feel you Just as you are.
People outside, outside of me All Wanted Me Broken. Like them. God how they harmed me. Intentionally, as if it was their parental right and joy to bust me down.
They thought they could lower me to their standards....to become miserable abusive low lives like they were. I fucking showed them.
I am the strongest and smartest of the bunch, I knew what they did was wrong. I didn't join in their fucking reindeer games. I didn't buy the family mottos of "Incest is best" and "keep all the family secrets" and "Danger lurks Outside the family house." the only danger and incredible suffering was inside that house, inside that family.
Fuck them. They did not win.
I see the patterns of betrayal, lies and belittlement. I see that I had to build all these walls just to fucking survive their fucked up, cruel, malicious, sadistic, heavy handed, humiliating, and degrading existence of my "childhood". I Protected My Self. And I was damn good at it.
So here I sit. Within the walls I have made. It's a different time. It's a different place. I have different people with different objectives around me. Obviously, it's time to change. These people now.....they don't want to hurt me.
Time to talk about it. Time to be aware that the past...no longer holds me in its tight fisted death grip. Times. Have. Changed. The tide has turned.
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